


i think your house is haunted

by fraldarian



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Children, Comfort/Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraldarian/pseuds/fraldarian
Summary: Sylvain falls down a well. Felix is always there to pick him back up again.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 14
Kudos: 70





	i think your house is haunted

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @fraldarian for more!

Sylvain gives his heart away at the age of nine. It’s tiny, and shrivelled, and there’s hardly anything there – but he hands it off of his own free will. Into the little hands of snot-faced and puffy-eyed Felix, with grubby fingers that hold to him steadfast. He cradles it, kisses it, whispers it a safe recovery and promises Sylvain that he’s to never leave him. If he’d had a heart anymore, it would have shattered at such fragile words.

Instead he’s in an infirmary bed, and the only things that are shattered are his own dreams. Felix lays at his side, tiny and round with cheeks that are stained by tear tracks. “Stop getting hurt,” Felix sniffles through bloodshot eyes. He’s seven, too young to understand that a brother does not always love a brother and that a mother does not always care for her child.

Sylvain tries to laugh. His smile is perfectly curated, a spitting representation of his father’s false grins. “Aw, Fe. I’ll be okay.” He’s battered and bruised, nails reduced to bloody stubs, but he’s still here. He’s here, and he’s breathing, and he’s got Felix by his side.

“You can come live with Glenn and me,” Felix suggests. “Glenn never lets me hurt myself. He kisses my booboos better if I do.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that. His smile falters, and porcelain skin begins to crack. “I don’t think I can do that.”

Felix’s face turns crestfallen. He looks like he’s about to cry, or worse. “Why not? My castle is _big._ You can come sleep in my bed with me, and Teddy and Mittens and Blueberry can belong to you too, and papa will tell us bedtime stories –”

Sylvain cuts him off with a little shush. “Okay, okay. How about this.” Patting the space still left on his infirmary bed, Felix obediently scoots closer. He smells like lavender and fresh snow and a cold breeze. Sylvain lets him rest his head on his shoulder. The weight is comforting. “As soon as I get better, I’ll come over. And we can play knights in the courtyard, and Glenn can be the big bad dragon like he always is.”

Amber eyes grow wide with adoration, and Sylvain feels something inside his chest squeeze tightly at the look Felix now gives him. “And you can stay the night! We can have rabbit stew, and then we can go look at the horses, and you can feed them and pet them. Like you always do!”

For once, Sylvain’s smile isn’t strained. “Yeah. And can your mom make those little buns? The sweet ones? Please?” He juts his bottom lip out in the beginnings of a pout.

“Yes!” Felix climbs on his knees, innocently kissing Sylvain’s cheek with a loud smack. It’s the only time he’s been hit by something and not found pain where skin once connected.

It would be nice to call Felix’s home his.

“Sylvain?”

“Felix?”

“Why were you in a well in the first place?”

It’s such a sudden change of pace in their conversation that Sylvain goes silent. The monsters in Felix’s closet may not be real, but the shadows that find home in the corners of the Gautier estate are.

“Glenn was wondering why he found you in there. He said you were crying.” Felix rubs his hands, like he’s done something bad and now pays the price with guilt. “I’m not supposed to ask you. Glenn said he was gonna. But I wanna know too!”

There are no ways in which a child can tell another child that it was the fault of a brother. Instead Sylvain smooths back Felix’s bangs, swallows past the weight of impending anxiety, and smiles stiffly. “I tripped, it’s okay. There’s lots of snow on the ground right now, and I wasn’t looking at where I was going, and I fell.” Sylvain lightly flicks Felix’s chin. “It was my fault. I’m sorry for scaring you, Fe.”

Felix makes a little noise of frustration. “You’re always so clumsy. And then your dad won’t let me come over.” He sniffles again, and Sylvain catches the moment tears resurface in his eyes. “He’s a meanie. Doesn’t he know you can’t fix being clumsy?”

“It’s okay. You’re here today, aren’t you?” Sylvain doesn’t know what to do. Instead he reaches out, wiping away tears. All it does is rewet dried blood and smear a line of it across Felix’s cheek.

Sylvain is horrified. He wipes it away as quickly as it appeared.

“Yeah. But I have to go soon. Glenn says your dad will get mad at us.” Felix clings to Sylvain’s bruised hand like it’s a lifeline. Sylvain thinks Felix is actually the lifeline. He always is.

“What did I say? When I get better, I’ll come over. How about this – you go run and get Bucky from my room. You like him, don’t you? My big brown horse? You can take him home with you. That way I _have_ to visit, because I’ll have to get him back.”

That seems more than reasonable to little Felix. He pats Sylvain’s hand wordlessly, as if wishing him well, and then scurries off to Sylvain’s chambers. The castle is a labyrinth of halls and rooms, but Felix has visited enough times by now to know where Sylvain’s quarters are. He’s a smart boy. He’s always been, Sylvain thinks.

He doesn’t expect the fear to return as soon as he’s alone. But it comes back, hounding and relentless like a Faerghan winter’s winds banging at wooden sills. He expects to find Miklan lurking behind the drawers of an unattended ward, or the Margrave himself looming from the rafters above. But neither things happen, and the only person to enter the room is Felix once more.

“I got him, Sylvain! Look!” In his hands he carries a well-loved, fraying stuffed horse. It’s missing an eye, and the seams are beginning to unravel, but Sylvain still thinks Bucky is as handsome as ever.

Beckoning Felix over, Sylvain gives the horse’s head a little pat. “You have to take _extra_ good care of him. Okay?” He doesn’t want to think about what would happen if Fe dirtied Bucky. Sylvain pouts at the idea. “Promise me?”

Felix sticks up his pinky. It isn’t the first time they’ve pinky-sworn to each other. “Promise!” Both of them nod in unison, and then Felix breaks away, hugging Bucky close to his chest. Sylvain can’t help but smile as he watches Fe nose against its soft mane.

From outside, Glenn’s voice calls distantly. Something in Sylvain’s chest dies. “You have to go, Fe. I’ll be okay.”

“Will you? Do you promise me? You’re going to get better?” Felix looks desperate, as if he isn’t used to the fact that Sylvain always bounces back. He has to. He has to know how to survive up here.

“Yes, I promise.” And then, “you being here already made me feel a little better. See? You are helping!”

Felix smiles. “Okay, good.” He turns around, running off before halting and looking back. There’s a momentary look of panic that crosses Felix’s face, and he thuds back over on boot-heavy feet. “Can you kiss Bucky’s forehead for me? Maybe it will bring good luck.”

A gentle laugh. That, Sylvain thinks he can at least do for Felix right now. Leaning over, he kisses Bucky with a pronounced _mwuah._

That seems to do it. Felix giggles, pulls back, and offers a toothy grin and a wide wave. “Goodbye, Sylvain!”

He turns the corridor, and Sylvain is left alone once more.

“Goodbye, Felix.”


End file.
